it open as I ran down the front steps to grab Peach. I got her arm just as the walnuts started coming down in force, pelting us in the back and legs as we ran back onto the safety of the porch. We stood there, hands clasped together, staring in disbelief as hundreds of walnuts crashed down onto my yard, bouncing off the ground with unnatural force as they hit. After a few moments, it stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the smoke that had surrounded the branches of my tree seemed to be sucked back into it in a whoosh.
Peach was stock-still for a long time, her eyes wide and her mouth shut, and then she turned to me, releasing my hands.
"I think there's something really wrong with your tree, Liv," she said, her voice shaky. I recognized the feeling, that sense of shock as you tried to reconcile something you just witnessed with everything you know about how the world works.
"Yes, there's definitely something wrong." I glanced up and down the street, then gave her my umbrella, which was pockmarked and beaten to a point where I was pretty sure it would never close again. It would get her next door, though, and once she was gone, I could try to figure out what had just happened.
"Why don't you go on home, Peach? I'm gonna call my tree guy."
"Sure." She blinked twice, as if she was still trying to process what had happened, and then flipped the dented umbrella up over her head. "Let me know what you want to do for Confessional on Saturday. I really think we should all ... you know ... get together." Her voice shook a little bit, and I patted her shoulder.
"Everything's okay," I said, my voice soft and reassuring. "Go on home."
"Okay." She nodded like a child, and then held the battered umbrella over her head as she made her way next door, giving my oak tree a wide berth as she walked past it toward her house. A moment later, her front door shut and I heard a strange blurp sound, like a pop played backward on a sound system. I looked back to the walnuts, which were disappearing one by one, into quickly dissipating puffs of gray smoke.
Blurp-blurp-blurp. Gone.
I stood on my porch for a few minutes, breathing in and out, trying to make sense of what had just happened. It was magic, that much was obvious, but it wasn't the kind of magic Betty and I had. This was malevolent, magic intended to harm, maim, or kill.
Possibly, intended to kill me.
I stood there for a moment, lost in thought, and had just started for the front door when something in the corner of my eye made me tense up. I twirled around, and there in the pool of streetlamp light at the end of our lane, stood a woman in a red dress, her ash-blond curls flowing freely around her face in the light breeze.
"Millie?" I whispered. There was no way she could have heard me, but still, she turned and disappeared from the light as soon as I spoke her name. I darted down my porch steps and ran down the road after her. Either she hadn't been trying to elude me, or she wasn't used to the bloodred spike heels she was wearing, but I caught up to her before she'd gone half a block.
"Mill!" I grabbed her arm and turned her to face me. "Mill, what's...? Wow."
Her eyes were made up dark and smoky, and the deep red lip stain brought out the fullness of her mouth. Even her nails were perfectly manicured in the same red. I looked at her again, squinting my eyes at her.
"Millie?"
She smiled sweetly, the same old Millie smile, and I recognized her again. "Yes, Liv, it's me."
"Oh my god." I took a step back to survey her. "Holy crap, Mill."
She gave a little half-twirl, like a shy little girl, and her dress swirled around her legs. "It was time for a change. Do you like it?"
Do I like it? I'd heard stories about women who'd lost a lot of weight and subsequently lost their friends through jealousy, and my mind went to that as I checked out Millie. There was no doubt; she was beautiful. The dress was perfect for her slightly thicker frame, and the little black shrug she wore over her shoulders added an extra sexy element to the outfit. She looked amazing. But did